


Never Let You Go

by Dragon_Of_Winterfell



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Drama, Emmy Kinney, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional!Norman Reedus, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Hospital, Hurt!Emily Kinney, Ice Cream, Kissing, Making Love, Norman Reedus - Freeform, Normily - Freeform, Pregnancy, Romance, Sex, Two Shot, beth greene - Freeform, bethyl, daryl dixon - Freeform, emily kinney - Freeform, the walking dead - Freeform, twd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-17 02:51:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9300845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon_Of_Winterfell/pseuds/Dragon_Of_Winterfell
Summary: Norman stumbled inside backwards and, although he nearly tripped over a pair of boots that was left abandoned by the front door, his attention never once faltered from the beautiful woman in his arms. // After making love to one another, Emily's sudden cravings make her insist on running to the store for a container of ice cream in the middle of the night.---It was exactly 3:47 in the morning when he woke up from a dead sleep and received a life changing phone call..Rated M for sexual content and slight language.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> So I know I'm a bit late, but just about a month or two ago I finally decided to watch The Walking Dead. I immediately became obsessed with the show and binged my way through six full seasons as well as the eight episodes of season seven – it's just so unbelievably good. While watching though Beth Greene and Daryl Dixon have become my favorite characters and when I watched Beth get killed... my heart just broke. I'm still not over it. Not at all.
> 
> I don't care what some of the haters like to say about Bethyl. They were perfect together. They brought out the best in one another and both of them deserved the happiness that was tragically ripped away from them. It's just not fair what happened to Beth... Emily Kinney is an amazing actress and she will most certainly be missed from the show. <3
> 
> So, I not only love Beth and Daryl together, but I also think Norman and Emily's relationship is so freaking adorable. I love them both so much and when I got this idea for a Normily story, I knew I had to write it. This is entirely fiction. Sadly, they are not together in real life and are just very close friends.
> 
> Anyways, I just want to thank you all so much for deciding to read this story of mine and I really do hope you all enjoy. The story became a bit too long, which is why I chose to split it into two parts.
> 
> Please leave comment down below, leaving me your feedback. It would only take a moment of your time and I would truly appreciate it. Any and all of your thoughts and opinions are highly welcomed and encouraged. Your words honestly help me grow as a writer.
> 
> Thank you and enjoy!

* * *

 

The door swung open, slamming loudly and carelessly against the wall. The dim light from the hallway shinned across the threshold and melted into the darkness that engulfed the rest of the silent apartment. Norman stumbled inside backwards and, although he nearly tripped over a pair of boots that was left abandoned by the front door, his attention never once faltered from the beautiful woman in his arms.  
  
Emily kept her body as close to his as physically possible. Her fingers pressed into his shoulder blades, her nails biting through the thin fabric he wore. Her dress hitched up around her thighs from her legs being wrapped tightly around his hips with her ankles locked securely at his tailbone. One of her red heels dug into him painfully while the other hung loosely from her big toe. Her breasts mushed against his chest and were almost spilling from her white lace bra, her nipples already perky and aching to be touched.  
  
Her soft, moist lips were pressed firmly against his mouth, her tongue swirling around his own. It felt as if the air was being sucked completely from her lungs; she couldn’t breathe, but she wasn’t willing to part from him. She moved her tongue along his bottom lip before taking it into her mouth and sucking gently. Then, ever so slightest she bit down on the soft flesh. He groaned deep in his throat, and she couldn’t help the warm and teasing smile that spread across her face.

His arms tightened around her petite body, one of his hands across her lower back while the other cupped the back of her neck. He used his foot to swiftly kick the door shut then immediately pinned her against it, rubbing his pelvis against hers. She could feel the heat radiating off him through his clothes and his throbbing erection against the lower part of her belly. Her head fell back, her lips ripping away from his, and a throaty moan spilled passed her lips. She squeezed her eyes shut and squirmed against him, desperate to feel the length of him inside of her.  
  
In fact, she had been desperate all night. He especially didn’t help her urge to have sex with him throughout the Christmas party they were attending with the winks he would send her way or when he ran his hand up her dress, his fingers teasing her wet center. As much as she was enjoying herself at the party and spending time with her and Norman’s friends, she couldn’t wait to get him alone. They had tried to sneak away to the bathroom, only for there always to be a line of men and women or for Norman’s sister to nearly catch them in the act. Eventually, all her self-control had flown out the window and she could tell he felt the same way.  
  
The moment they reached the car, their hands were grasping and holding on to each other as if their lives depended on it. Their jackets were the first to go, and she was honestly surprised they tore away from one another long enough to make it back to their shared apartment.  
  
He used his hips to keep her firmly pinned to the door, his hard cock rubbing anxiously against her sex. He heard her intake a sharp breath from the movement, and he couldn’t prevent the seductive grin that inched its way onto his face. He dropped his hand from her neck and glided his fingers along her bare thighs, his hand gradually sliding up her green cotton dress. His index finger pushed her soaked panties aside and slipped deep inside her, keeping a steady speed as he thrusted into her.  
  
Her breath hitched in her throat as she involuntarily leaned forward. She threaded her arms around his neck, clenching on to him tightly. She let out a soft moan when he exchanged one finger for two then three, and angled his hand so his thumb could rub her clit with each thrust. Her eyelids slid shut and her body arched as waves upon waves of overpowering pleasure coursed through her body.  
  
“Norman,” she rasped out, her forehead resting against his. “Norman, _please_.”  
  
His eyes glanced up to look at her through the fringe of bangs that fell across his forehead, slightly covering his eyes. The sight he saw before him made his heart melt into his chest. He loved the way her eyebrows scrunched together as her mouth very slowly fell open, a silent scream falling from her rose colored lips. Again and again his hand moved between her legs, his fingers stroking her slick lips then switching to rub circles over her small, sensitive bundle of nerves. He could feel her inner walls begin to spasm around him; she was close.  
  
She panted heavily as he quickened his movements; he could feel her warm breath against his ear with every inhale and exhale. His eyes instantly darkened with a mixture of lust and love. He couldn’t help but smirk as he asked, “Please what?”  
  
He fastened his mouth to her jaw and sloppily kissed a line down her neck. His beard scraped and tickled her skin, creating tiny goosebumps along her arms. His tongue trailed leisurely over the base of her throat and he gently sucked her throbbing pulse point.  
  
“Hm?” he hummed in between laving at her rapidly beating pulse.  
  
While his teeth grazed the sensitive area, a bolt of heat rushed to her aching center. She could feel him smile against her silky skin, and that alone was almost enough to make her come undone. She willed her eyes open and her large sapphire irises locked with his matching ones.  
  
“Fuck girl,” he said in a low, husky voice. “You’re so wet.” He watched her lick her lips and he just needed to hear her say it. He never got tired of hearing her say it. She was his–she was his girl and _damn it_ , he’d never stop loving her.  
  
“I want you,” Emily gasped and groaned in protest when he suddenly stopped touching her and removed his hand from between her thighs. Her fingers dug into his hair and pulled, sending a jolt of ecstasy down his spine. “ I- I want you. _Now_.”  
  
He shifted his position, using his hips and one arm to keep her pressed tightly against the door. Having the sudden desire to taste her, he lifted his hand that was fingering her center and brought it to his lips. Never once did he break eye contact with her as he slowly put his dripping wet fingers into his mouth, tasting her juices as he licked each one clean.  
  
A bead of sweat trickled down the side of her head. “Norman,” she said his name more as a silent command. She craved his touch and needed to feel him come inside of her. She had her fair share of relationships with men, but if she were being completely honest with herself, she had never wanted a man so badly in her entire life.  
  
The second his name fell off her tongue he shot right into action. He placed his hands under her round, perfect ass and lifted her, gathering her slim body into his arms. She kept her long legs wrapped around his waist with her hands running through his messy brown locks. He was heading to their bedroom, but with her mouth teasing his earlobe he found himself stumbling toward the coffee tinted leather couch instead.  
  
Norman gently laid her on the couch before standing back up to tear off his clothes. His fingers worked swiftly on undoing the buttons of his black button down shirt; once he finished, he tossed the shirt somewhere far to the other side of the room. He immediately began working on kicking off his shoes and socks before ripping off his pants.  
  
By the time he slid off his boxers and allowed his erection to spring free, Emily was lying on the couch before him utterly nude. A low growl rumbled in the back of his throat as his eyes took a long, slow journey up the length of her perfect body. It was dark in the apartment, but he was able to see just enough and see how truly beautiful she was from the small amount of light their decorated Christmas tree provided them.  
  
He climbed on top of her, but didn’t make a move to enter her– _yet_. Although he was dying slide between her wet folds and join their bodies together, he enjoyed teasing her. He started by slowly planting soft, featherlike kisses on her smooth stomach. He knew she was wet and ready for him, but he wanted to take his time kissing his way up to her eagerly waiting mouth that was slightly parted and swollen. He wanted more than anything to savor the moments before he took her completely.  
  
She moaned his name once more when he gently spread her legs wide, placing himself in between. When he settled between her parted thighs, she felt his cock throbbing and jerking with anticipation against her. Her head fell back into one of the gold colored pillows, her eyes screwing tightly shut. He kept himself from entering her, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could take.  
  
Emily felt the pressure of his erection against her lower belly. She was well aware he was purposely taking his time, not rushing the desirable moment despite how much it tortured the both of them. All night she had been thinking of _this_ , and thinking of how good it’d feel to have him move in and out of her like he had done so many times before. He was teasing her and because of that, she didn’t know if she’d rather fuck or kill him.  
  
She tried desperately to use her words, but she couldn’t speak. Her throat felt extremely dry and as much as she wanted to beg him to hurry up, to encourage him, and _to just say something_ , she couldn’t form a single sentence. She parted her lips, intaking sharp breaths of air as her eyes once again connected with his own.  
  
He never looked away from her. His heart was pounding wildly against his ribcage as he kissed every single inch of her, moving up the length of her body and only stopping when he reached her chest. He lowered his head with a long, deep moan and latched his mouth over her closest breast while his hand caressed the other. He sucked the pink, perky nipple hard and used his tongue to spiral around the sensitive peak. Meanwhile, his other hand twirled the hard nipple of her other breast between his thumb and index finger.  
  
Her chest was heaving as he switched breasts; he began sucking on her erect nipple while his fingers pinched and rolled the other one that was wet from his mouth. Her small, trembling hands found his body–one clawed at the skin of his back while the other tangled in his hair, urging his mouth harder against her breast and to continue the tortuous pleasure.

He released her swollen nipple with a loud pop, then kissed a slow, wet trail up the valley between her breasts, to her neck, to finally the side of her mouth. She blinked innocently at him and he could see the amount of desire that burned in her bright blue orbs.  
  
“I love you,” she panted out, breathing slightly erratic. Despite the millions of times she had said it to him, it was still music to his ears. Her hair laid across the pillows in a mess with a few stray strands stuck to her forehead from the thin layer of sweat that formed there; her lips were red and plump, eyes wide and a little moist, and her face was flushed.  
  
She looked so _fucking_ gorgeous.  
  
She kept a strong hold on his shoulder while her other hand traveled between their bodies, her skin warm against his, and she gingerly curled her fingers around him. She held his throbbing cock, noticing the precum oozing from the tip, and squeezed; it wasn’t too much, but just enough to send a jolt of pure ecstasy down his spine to the very tip of his penis. The sound of his groan made the corners of her mouth quirk up into a teasing, seductive smile. She guided him to her wet center, positioning him before her most precious, intimate part of her.  
  
Norman pressed a soft kiss to her sticky forehead at the same exact moment, without warning, he plunged inside of her. He waited barely a second before he drew his cock out of her then, with one hard thrust, buried himself to the hilt, drawing a loud moan from her lips. He smashed his lips against hers, kissing her urgently as he pumped steadily in and out of her, hitting all the right places.  
  
She wrapped her legs around his waist and moved in sync with him; their rhythm was instinctive and absolutely blissful. Her hands cupped his face, his beard scrapping her palms almost painfully. She pulled his bottom lip between her teeth and nipped; when he hissed, she kissed and sucked on the soft flesh.  
  
“Right there,” she gasped, breaking their kiss for only a moment. “ _Oh God_. Norman, I–”  
  
“I know what you need,” he managed to grunt out before she could finish her sentence. He altered his speed, thrusting in and out of her slowly, fucking her with long, hard strokes. He slipped his hand between their bodies like he had done earlier and found her center; he covered her clitoris with his finger and rapidly rubbed in a circular motion.  
  
She ripped her mouth a part from his and threw her head back, crying out as she felt the coil of her climax growing tight in her belly. She lifted her leg over his hip to open herself more to him and bring him closer, deeper. She felt her entire body begin to burn as she grew closer and closer to reaching her orgasm. It started between her legs then gradually spread up her torso and down the length of her arms to the tips of her fingers; she felt the wonderful burning sensation travel down her legs to her toes.  
  
They moved perfectly together and they were one; their bodies and hearts were connected and their love was forever. The second she had met him she felt a strong connection and knew–and _hoped_ –they could be more, and she was right. Little by little her and Norman’s relationship continued to grow, just like their characters. Even after she was tragically killed off the show they remained bonded, despite her concerns. When she read the part in the script when Beth was shot in the head she was so sure that would mean the death of any possible future she and Norman could have had. They would no longer be working together, and eventually they would drift away from one another.  
  
Emily had never been so happy to be so wrong in her entire life. She had cried for countless nights when she first found out she would be killed off _The Walking Dead_. She enjoyed playing Beth Greene and making friends with the other members of the cast, and she truly loved seeing Norman every damn day. It was perfect, but it was all ending too soon for her.

They both made sure to stay in touch. It wasn’t easy with their conflicting schedules, but they made it work. He flew in to see her as much as possible and she loved to surprise him with her visits. They were becoming more and more invested, and she was afraid their relationship, which was still so new, would come crashing to a sudden end. She was extremely thankful it hadn’t and they were still together–closer than ever. It was like they were two puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly; as cliché as it may seem, they were soulmates and they were going to spend the rest of their lives together.

She was absolutely certain of it.  
  
Her lungs tightened and for a moment she was sure her heart was going to burst. She clawed at his back, her fingernails ripping at his skin; if she was able to think clearly she would feel guilty about the marks she was painfully leaving. He dropped his head, resting his forehead against the crook of her neck. He held her tight while he plunged into her wet core faster and harder, slamming their lower bodies together desperately; she was able to feel the rumble in his chest as he let out a throaty groan.  
  
He drove his cock as deep into her wet and slippery entrance as he can. One, two, _three_ more thrusts and she burst into climax. Her muscles seized, her inner walls clamping and squeezing around him. Her cry echoed loudly throughout the room and it wasn’t long after she felt his release, spilling his seed inside her. His name tumbled from her lips repeatedly as they rode out their orgasms together.  
  
Just as they both finished he collapsed on top of her, his body sticking to her equally sweating body. Neither one of them had an ounce of energy left. The feeling of thick, warm cum was hot on her skin as it trickled between her throbbing legs. He planted a sloppy, open mouth kiss to her shoulder and waited several minutes before placing his hands on her hips and slowly pulling out of her.  
  
Norman carefully climbed off her and sank to the floor as she remained lying down, stuck to the leather of the couch. He turned his head and pressed his lips onto the spot just above her kneecap. He allowed his eyelids to flutter close as he breathed in her sweet, lavender scent. His heart hammered in his chest and his feelings for her only proceeded to grow, although he could have sworn it wasn’t even possible.  
  
“I love you too,” he finally muttered against her skin.

* * *

  
Emily was curled against his side with her head laying on his shoulder, her face nuzzled up against his neck. Her hand was placed on his bare chest, her fingers very gently ghosting over the tattoo inked on the patch of skin above his heart. She was extremely comfortable and couldn’t ever imagine wanting to move from where she was. There wasn’t a time in her life she had felt as happy as she did than in this very moment.  
  
He held her tightly in his arms as she laid on the floor with him beside the fireplace, her legs intertwined with his own. He dragged his hand up and down the length of her arm as he gently grazed her skin with the tips of his fingers, creating mindless patterns. His chin was resting on the top of her head, her messy blonde curls tickling his nose.  
  
The cold wind was fiercely pounding against the windows, but the harsh weather was kept out from the blasting heat and burning wood. Norman had lost track of how much time the two of them spent wrapped up in one another, laying on the floor in between their lit Christmas tree and fireplace with a thick blanket both under and on top of them. They were in their very own bubble and nothing else mattered–it was as if the rest of the world didn’t exist.  
  
“You warm yet?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, his voice slightly muffled by her hair.  
  
She smiled against him and nodded her head. Although he was normally always hot, he knew far too well she grew cold quite easily. It could be eighty degree weather outside and somehow he’d find her trying to hide her shivering. As soon as they finished making love and were able to find enough energy to move he made sure to get the fire going and tuck her against his warm body and under some blankets.  
  
“I’m warming up. You feel like a furnace so that helps.” She glanced up at him, a wide grin plastered across her face. She shifted so her body was closer to his than before, moving to make sure every inch of her was touching and practically glued to him. When she heard him intake a sharp breath, she blushed. She tilted her head back and innocently blinked at him.  
  
“Sorry,” she mumbled when she realized her bare thigh was rubbing against cock, slowly arousing him all over again. She looked sincere for all of three seconds before her mouth stretched into a half smile as she tried her hardest to hold in her laughter.  
  
Norman rolled his eyes as he felt himself begin to throb and ache for her sweet touch. “No, you’re not.”  
  
He could feel his erection as well as his desire to be inside her again grow, and as much as he wanted to scold her for teasing him, the second he heard the sound of her laughter he couldn’t help but smile. He bent his head uncomfortably so he would be able to stare into her half open eyes and watch as the flames from the fire illuminated her face.  
  
There wasn’t a thing in the world he wouldn’t do for her.  
  
She smoothly slid her body out of his arms and over his own body so she could lay flat on top of him. Her breasts flattened against his chest when she stretched against him, her toes just barely grazing his feet. Reaching up, she pressed her mouth to his ear. “You know what I could go for right about now?” Emily asked in a low, sultry voice. When she spoke, her lips and warm breath gently tickled his earlobe.  
  
Her hand traveled lazily down his body, her index finger dancing up and down the full length of him. He was throbbing already against her touch, which caused her cheeks to  automatically tint to a light shade of red. She loved that she could turn him on so easily–it made her feel something she had never truly felt before with someone.  
  
His hips jerked when she traced an invisible path to his balls, brushing them ever so lightly. As he threw his head back against the floor and moaned loudly in pleasure, she licked her lips and offered him one of her tiny, mischievous smirks. “You wanna know what I’m _especially_ craving for?”  
  
She watched him swallow thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing. He needed a minute to find his voice as she teasingly stroked him, but when he did manage to focus away from her skillful hand, he smiled a crooked grin. Although he had a pretty good idea what she was referring to, he played along. “And what’d that be, Em?” God, did he want her.  
  
As agonizingly slow as she could possibly move, she slid the top half of her off him and shifted into a sitting position, straddling his hips. Her breasts were gorgeous; the nipples were already hard and perky, almost begging to be touched by his hands. Her thin panties were the sole barrier that prevented him from taking her right then and there.  
  
His cock hardened when she rocked her pelvis forward and back, rubbing against him. She knew he was torturing him, and by the playful look on her face, she was enjoying it. He needed to touch her so fucking _badly_ and he desperately needed her to move faster. His hands grasped her hips, encouraging her, but she kept her slow speed.  
  
She arched her back and braced her small hands against his chest. He was fully naked under her and if it weren’t for her white lace panties, he would already be deep inside her dripping wet, slick center. She circled her hips once more, then in one quick, sudden movement she pushed off his body and stood to her feet. She was already across the room and gathering his black button down shirt in her hands before his brain could even begin to process what had just happened.  
  
His erection was throbbing– _burning_ –now. She had stolen all the air from his lungs and he couldn’t catch his breath. “Wait, where the _hell_ are ya going?”  
  
“I’m craving some delicious, cold…” she paused for a split second, then her face broke out into a wide smile as she finished her sentence, “ice cream.” She spoke so casually as if they weren’t just having an intense, heated moment. She slipped on his shirt then began searching for a pair of sweatpants she knew she left somewhere by the couch the day before.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he shook his head, not understanding even in the slightest what was going on. His eyebrows furrowed together in utter confusion. “What?”  
  
“Ice cream,” she repeated. She noticed he had propped himself up in a sitting position, watching her every move with narrowed eyes. She shrugged one of her shoulders. “I don’t know why, but for most of the night I’ve just been _really_ wanting some peanut butter ice cream.”  
  
He squinted his eyes as he attempted to read the time on his watch he had forgotten to take off his wrist. “Em, it’s nearly 2:30 in the morning. Can’t that craving of yours wait ‘til morning?”  
  
She pulled on her grey sweatpants then tossed a pillow at his head that he was effortlessly able to duck from and not be struck in the face. She rolled her eyes at him. _Men_. Why is it so hard for them to understand certain things some of the time?  
  
“Because I really want some now; I can’t explain it. We’re in New York, Norman. You know better than I do that stores are always open, no matter the time of day or night. There’s a small place at the corner, I’ll be no more than twenty minutes.”  
  
She scratched the side of her head and frowned when she couldn’t find her jacket or purse. She remembered having both on her when she and Norman left the Christmas party, but what she did with both items afterwards was unknown to her.

He seemed to have automatically read the thoughts in her mind. “We left both of our jackets in your car when we were, well, you know.”  
  
She noticed the way his eyes lit as the memory of them sneaking away from the party crossed both of their minds. They were squashed in the backseat with their hands and lips desperately trying to touch every part of each other. It took them a while, but she eventually had enough willpower to tear away and drive them home. Once they parked outside their apartment, well, everything other than them was immediately forgotten.  
  
“I think your phone and bag is still in there too,” he added to his previous statement as he gathered himself to his feet. He was spinning around as if he was searching for something himself when she asked what he was doing.  
  
Norman shook his head. “I’ll go run out and get the ice cream. You stay here.”  
  
“What? No, I’ll go. It was my idea!” She closed the distance between them and gently pushed on his shoulders so he would sit back down on their pile of blankets. “I’ll be right back.”  
  
“I don’t want you outside in the freezing cold when it’s pitch black out there, Em.” It wasn’t right, he could feel that in his gut. He knew she could take care of herself, but he wasn’t going to lie to himself or her either. She was a petite woman who, just like her character did, only saw the good in people. He trusted her completely; it was other people he didn’t. Besides, it was below twenty degrees outside with ice and snow on the ground. He didn’t want her to go.  
  
“I promise I’ll be careful.” Emily pressed her lips hard against his mouth. She held the kiss for a few moments before forcing herself to pull away in order to find a pair of shoes and another jacket to toss on. “I’m just going to the corner and back. Fifteen minutes, you watch.”  
  
The second she saw the pointed look he sent her way, she quickly blurted out, “I mean _ten_ minutes. Definitely ten minutes and that’s it. If you go it’s guaranteed you’ll be recognized almost immediately. The fangirls will never let you get back here. I’ll come right back to you and we could maybe go for round two. Huh, what do you say?” She wiggled her eyebrows childishly at him, but his face was simply blank, not even showing a hint of a smile. A tired sigh escaped and tumbled from her mouth; she just wanted to get him to relax and not worry about her.  
  
He had almost–just _almost_ –forgotten about his aching erection. He rolled his matching blue eyes at her, then nodded his head with a small smile finally tugging at the corner of his lips. “Just hurry back.”  
  
“You got it.” She slid on one of her thick winter jackets and headed for the door. She couldn’t help but think about how ridiculous she must look dressed the way she was. Her hair was an utter mess, her makeup was smeared across her face, and her clothes was a whole other story. She had his shirt on with baggy sweatpants and a pair of old cowgirl boots. She cringed.  
  
She hoped no one would recognize her.  
  
Emily turned the knob and pulled the door open. Before she took off for her ice cream run, she glanced over her shoulder and asked sweetly, “Want anything?”  
  
“No,” he grumbled under his breath and was already lighting a cigarette in his hand. “Just be careful, Em. I mean it.”

He was being stubborn. He didn’t really want her to go so somewhere in his head made him think by saying he wanted nothing was going to somehow make her change her mind and ignore her cravings for some delicious peanut butter ice cream. She shrugged her shoulder and sang, “Whatever you say, but you ain’t stealing a bit of mine.”  
  
Just as she closed the door behind her, she could have sworn he caved and she heard him shout he wanted chocolate.

* * *

  
She was extremely thankful only two people noticed who she was and asked for an autograph. She didn’t want nor did she ever like turning away her fans, but tonight she did politely decline taking any pictures. When she asked someone for the time, since she didn’t have her cell-phone, she was happy to know she had been gone for only sixteen minutes.  
  
She would blame the fans who spotted her for making her go over the ten minutes she promised him. Plus, the store on the corner was closed, although she did manage to find another across the street two blocks down from the apartment. Nevertheless, the ice cream she held looked delicious so it was well worth it. At least she thought so.

Little flakes of snow gracefully fell from the dark sky and peacefully landed onto the top of her head, blanketing her blonde hair with white almost completely. The snow rose to cover her ankles, and she had to be careful not to slip on any hidden black ice. She was shivering as the cold wind blew on her face and nipped at her already frozen skin. Her trembling bare hands carried the two pints of ice cream–one peanut butter and the other chocolate. She was instantly regretting not taking the bag the cashier offered her because between the chilly temperature outside and the cold ice cream containers, she was sure she was going to lose a finger or two.  
  
She blew out a deep breath of frosty air and began to speed up her pace. She just wanted to return to the apartment as soon as possible so she could be be back and curled up in Norman’s arms. In her entire life she had never felt more safe and loved other than when she was with him, especially when he held her close to his body. She had been in plenty of relationships, but they could never match or even be compared to hers with Norman. They were special. _He_ was special.  
  
Emily could almost spot her and Norman’s apartment when her foot slipped on the pavement. The snow covered a thick layer of ice and the second she realized where she stepped, there was not a thing she could do. She felt weightless; her heart lurched a split second before her body followed, her legs sliding out from beneath her.  
  
The two containers of ice cream fell from her grasp as her arms shot out in a failed attempt to steady her balance. The frozen containers slightly bounced off the ground before they rolled a few feet away from where she landed awkwardly–and _painfully_ –on her side.  
  
A sharp yelp ripped from the back of her throat and tumbled past her frostbit lips. The pain on her left side was agonizing. She tried to shift but pain shot throughout her body almost immediately. Her hip was burning and beginning to throb, and when she tried to make even the slightest movement it seemed every joint in her body had caught on fire.  
  
Her hands curled into fists as she pounded the snowy ground while she let out a powerful, blood-curdling scream of agony. Hot tears sprung to her eyes and trickled down her cheeks from the unbearable amount of pain she was suffering from. She cursed herself for not taking the time to grab her phone from the car because it was the middle of the night and she now had no way of getting help.  
  
Her piercing blue irises searched frantically for somebody– _anybody_ –to help her. There was no one. Cars did not give her a mere glance her way as they continued to drive by, minding their own business. As busy as New York always was regardless of the time, she couldn’t spot a single person wandering the sidewalks.  
  
“Help,” she whispered into the lonely night. The longer she laid in the snow, unable to move, the more she realized she couldn’t scream anymore. Her own voice was cracking and, ultimately, giving up on her.  
  
Her eyelids felt heavy and when they began to flutter shut, she heard a sound from behind her. Her head spun around the most it possibly can, searching desperately for the owner of the voice; her only salvation.  
  
“What’s a pretty girl like yourself doin’ out here in the cold? ‘Specially sprawled out in the snow,” a strange man said ominously. He had some kind of an accent she couldn't quite place. He was tall and slim, but if she squinted her eyes she could make out the strong muscles on his arms that were hidden underneath the heavy winter jacket he was wearing.  
  
“I…” Emily did her best to prop herself up on her elbow, grunting in pain from the movement. She was still trying to catch her breath. She watched him kneel beside her so they could be eye level as they spoke to one another. “I slipped on s-some _stupid_ ice that I couldn’t see and now I- I can’t get up.”  
  
His fingers gently itched the black stubble that dusted his jaw as he shook his head sadly. “Well, ain’t that a shame.”  
  
“Please,” she whispered, her lips beginning to quiver. “If I could just borrow y-your phone or if you could go find some he–”  
  
“And leave y’out here in the freezin’ cold?” He looked her up and down, then pointed a finger at her. She could practically see the lightbulb go off in his head. A wide, twisted smile spread across his face as realization dawned on him. “I know y’from somewhere. Don’t I?”

Her body was a mixture of numbness, pain, and gut-wrenching fear. She didn’t know somebody could feel numb and burning agony at once, but she did. The chilling weather touched her everywhere, and her skin seemed to freeze; the bitter cold froze the wetness of the tears to her red cheeks.

“No,” she said through clenched teeth without even a moment of hesitation. “No, you don’t.”  
  
“No, no, no,” he laughed, wagging the same finger he had pointed at her in her face. “I think I do. You’re a celeb, aren’t ya?”  
  
She tried to push her body up, but she collapsed right back down to her elbows. She let out a strangled yelp then gasped for air as she felt the pain shooting throughout her body, tearing her insides apart torturously piece by piece. She wouldn’t look him in the eye; she didn’t have the courage or strength to anymore.  
  
He studied her closely, his eyes taking in every little bit of her while his brain figured it out who she was exactly. He had seen her before, he was sure of it. It took a couple of anxious minutes, but when she heard him clap his hands excitedly together, she cringed because he _knew_.  
  
And by the sickening look on his grime face and the feeling he was conveying, it was dawning on her that it wasn’t a good thing.  
  
“Emily… Emily Kington? Kidney? Kin? I dunno, somethin’ like that, but you’re Beth! From _The Walking Dead_.” His calloused fingers grasped her chin roughly to raise her head, forcing her to look him in the eyes. When she didn’t deny it, his dark pupils gleamed with amusement. “Ah ha! Look at that. I _knew_ it!”  
  
“I don’t know what you want, but please…” Emily squeezed her eyes shut, unable to stop the flow of hot tears that rolled down her cheeks. “I have money and y-you could have it. I don’t care. Just _please_ , I just need a hospital.”  
  
He brought his thumb to his mouth and chewed on its nail. He was thinking; the wheels in his brain were turning and turning until something snapped inside of him. She helplessly watched as his eyebrows very slowly scrunched together and his smile turned into a scowl. The hand that was resting on his knee curled into a tight fist, his knuckles white from the strain. His whole demeanor changed, and she was utterly terrified.  
  
She felt a shiver crawl up the entire length of her spine. It wasn’t from the cold. When he spoke, her heart faltered a beat. “You’re one of ‘em rich bitches. It’s always the same with ya’ll, ain’t it? Blonde hair and pretty eyes. You got a nice house, good food, and plenty o’ money while the rest of us starve and try t’survive.”  
  
He took his thumb from lips and brought his hand forward, his fingers toying with one of her damp curls. Her whole head felt wet from the snow that was gradually piling on top of her. He cocked his head to one side, his menacing gaze focused on her fearful eyes, then her mouth.  
  
Besides the sounds of oblivious cars driving by and honking their irritating horns, silence fell around them. As she waited for him to make his next move, it was so painfully quiet; she could almost hear the sounds of the tiny snowflakes landing gently on the ground.  
  
A few minutes passed by without either one of them saying a word. She wanted to and she even tried to, but her voice was betraying her; she couldn’t even utter a single sound. He twirled her hair around his finger with his stare remaining on her at all times, his glaring eyes trailing uncomfortably up and down her aching body.  
  
Emily felt nothing at first. Then, it all happened so quickly her brain was unable to process it all. She felt a sharp pain in her cheek and when her trembling hand touched the spot, she knew she had been slapped.  
  
She opened her mouth–whether it was to say something or scream, she didn’t know–but nothing came passed her lips. Her throat tightened, and suddenly the choice of using her voice was taken from her involuntarily.  
  
This time, he curled his hand into a tight fist and hit her again…  
  
_She thought of Norman._  
  
And again…  
  
_She thought of his strong arms, and how it would feel to have them wrapped around her smaller body._  
  
And again…  
  
_She thought of the sound of his laughter when he told a joke or when she did something ridiculously stupid that he somehow found funny._  
  
And again…  
  
_She thought of his eyes and the way they lit up when he looked at her. She thought of how just by having his perfect blue eyes on her made her feel so complete and loved all at once._  
  
And again…  
  
_She thought of the way he touched her when they made love and how perfect they fit together. He was gentle and rough with her, and always put her needs before his own. He took care of her, worshiped her, loved her._

And again…  
  
_She thought of how scared she was when they first began to realize they had feelings for one another. She was terrified of what their friends and family would think, and what would happen to their friendship if it didn’t work out._  
  
And again…  
  
_She thought of how it felt when he held her to him with one arm while his other hand caressed her cheek lovingly. He would tilt her head back so he could look her in the eyes, his searching hers, and then he would kiss her over and over again._  
  
And again…  
  
_She thought of the first time she said she loved him and when he said it back. Their relationship was still new and, truth be told, they were both scared. But they loved one another and that was all that mattered._  
  
The man’s fists were pounding ceaselessly against her battered face, but she didn’t think of that. Just her and Norman. That was all that mattered in the world. Just them. She was numb, but she was still able to feel a tear escape the corner of her eye and slide down her bruising cheek.  
  
_And we’ll be good._

* * *

  
She was lying in the frigid snow on her back with her limbs sprawled in random directions, her body nearly covered. She did not move or speak as she watched with lifeless eyes flakes of snow fall gracefully from the stormy sky. Her skin was slowly turning a shade of blue as her limbs began to completely freeze. She was no longer trembling, she was still.  
  
Her chest barely rose and fell with each breath she struggled to inhale. Her lips were parted and a trickle of red escaped the corners of her mouth. She felt the numbness begin to fully take over her body, and she didn’t bother fighting it. Instead, she welcomed it.  
  
She thought of Norman and what it would be like if she stayed in their apartment and in his arms. It was way past ten minutes, and surely past twenty minutes as well. In a few hours people would be waking up and celebrating Christmas Eve with their loved ones while she remained exactly where she was, only by then the snow would be completely burying her frozen body. Nobody would ever know.  
  
Norman would probably find her eventually, but he’d be too late. _Just like Daryl was for Beth in the end_ , she realized.  
  
Her eyes were rolling to the back of her head, tiny black dots clouding her vision. She blinked a few times until her eyelids fully closed, sealing shut for the rest of eternity. She was fading and the pain was lessening by the moment.  
  
The ice cream laid a few feet away, long forgotten as she slowly slipped into a peaceful oblivion. A pool of her blood soaked the back of her head; the glistening white snow that was once pure drank the warm liquid eagerly, reddening as she bled.


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I am so, so sorry it has taken me this long to finally post this part of the story. I honestly didn't think it would have taken me this long to write it, but I was having a bit of a hard time with it, then the next semester of my college started so I've been busy with that. Nevertheless, here it is! Finally, the last part of "Never Let You Go", and I really do hope you all aren't disappointed and you like it. I'm extremely nervous about this, but my fingers are crossed that I didn't write them too out of character or anything, and you guys enjoy!
> 
> For the record, I am NOT a doctor, nor am I interested in medicine. Therefore, although I did some research, I may or may not be correct with medical terms and such.
> 
> Please leave comment down below, leaving me your feedback. It would only take a moment of your time and I would truly appreciate it. Any and all of your thoughts and opinions are highly welcomed and encouraged. Your words honestly help me grow as a writer.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading my story; it truly does mean the world to me. I may write some more Normily or start writing some Bethyl stories in the future – we'll see!
> 
> Enjoy! :)

* * *

 

The sound of his cell-phone blasting in his ear startled him from a dead sleep. His body jolted straight up to a standing position, and he immediately felt disoriented. He scratched the side of his head, stifling a yawn. Fog of sleep still clouded his mind and blurred his eyesight, and for a short time he wasn’t exactly sure what the hell was going on. He didn’t remember falling asleep. He briefly glanced around and took in that he was still on the floor, lying in the small space between the Christmas tree and the fireplace with blankets underneath him as well as covering him.

The piercing ring of his cell-phone echoed obnoxiously loud in the apartment and it was making his head spin even more. He brought his hands to his face and rubbed his knuckles deeply into his eye-sockets, a low moan spilling passed his lips. He was so damn exhausted. How much did he drink at the party he and Emily went to?

Emily.

He turned his head to the side and his heart instantly sank when he noticed her absence. He blinked repeatedly, his eyes adjusting to the dim light that surrounded him. He didn’t see her anywhere in the room and, as far as he see could from where he was, the lights from the bathroom and other rooms were still turned off.

Where in the world was she?

He was extremely thankful for the reprieve of silence he received when the ringing stopped, only for it to start once again. The thought of his girlfriend and her whereabouts were pushed aside as he focused on who the hell was bothering him when he could barely keep his eyes open and his head from spinning. He cursed under his breath and swore if it was Andy prank calling him he would kill the son of a bitch.

He groaned and reluctantly reached for the noisy device, pressing it firmly to his ear. “Norman Reedus,” he groggily answered. He glimpsed at the digital clock that was located next to the television and huffed out an annoyed breath of air when he realized the actual time. “Who’s this? Why _the hell_ are you calling at almost four in the mornin’?”

He heard speaking coming from the other line, but his brain wasn’t registering a word of what was being said. Nothing was making sense. The lady on the phone _had_ to have the wrong number or be talking about someone– _anyone_ –else.

Hospital. Emily Kinney. Critical condition. Blood loss. Hypothermia. Assault. Come quickly. We’re sor–

The call was cut short when his cell-phone slipped from his shaking hand and fell to the floor beside him. He had no idea what was happening, and he wasn’t even aware he somehow gathered his trembling legs under him and managed to stumble to his feet. Anxiety forced every bit of air from his lungs and his throat constricted; he couldn’t breathe. Tears burned his eyes, threatening to spill over. He didn’t normally cry–-he could probably count on one hand how many times he cried throughout his lifetime–-but in that moment he couldn’t _fucking think straight_. All he knew was that the woman he adored and had fallen deeply in love with was currently in surgery, fighting for her life.

Although he had only caught a few words the nurse was saying to him, he had a feeling. It was the same kind of feeling he had before Emily left to buy ice cream for the two of them just hours before. By the way the nurse sounded on the phone and what his gut was telling him, somewhere deep inside himself made him _know_ he was going to lose her.

He didn’t think nor did he care what he looked like as he threw on whatever clothes his shaking hands found first. He snatched his phone and keys, and when he headed out the door, he felt a drop of wetness escape his eye and slide down his left cheek.

* * *

Norman sat on one of the plastic chairs in the almost empty waiting room, waiting anxiously for any word on how Emily was doing or what was happening. Despite his demands, he has gotten no direct answers or updates from anyone who worked at the hospital. He had been chewing on his thumb since he arrived at the hospital and the nail was now practically ripping apart completely. His other hand was resting on his lap, bawled into a tight fist. He bounced his leg nervously–up and down, up and down.

While he sat in the chair with nothing other than his thoughts, he couldn’t help but imagine how he would have been-–or rather _should_ have been-–the one to have found her buried in the snow. Just like Daryl had gone to save Beth when she was trapped in Grady Memorial Hospital, _he_ should have been the one to go out and find her. However, the difference would be the ending; he’d be on time and she would be okay and _alive_.

Except he wasn’t the one who found and rescued her. He never gone out to even _look_ for her. Instead, he had fallen asleep while waiting for her return and was completely oblivious to what she was suffering through. He should have known something was wrong, and should have protected her. It was _his_ fault for whatever had happened to her and he would have to live with that for the rest of his life. And if she didn't make it...

It was exactly 3:47 in the morning when he received the phone call from the hospital, a young nurse on the line informing him briefly what happened to Emily. Even now that he was wide awake he couldn’t understand any of it–couldn’t understand why any of this happened at all. He forgot about the watch he wore on his wrist and when he glanced over his shoulder to check the clock hanging crookedly on the wall for the time, he felt bile rise in his throat.

It was a quarter after nine and he hadn’t even met the doctor who was taking care of his girl yet. Hours have past and during that length of time he had only spoken with one nurse and two doctors, and they barely gave him any useful information that could ease his pounding heart.

He was losing his _fucking_ mind.

It was hardly an hour ago when two officers had finally walked inside the hospital to update him on the man who "allegedly" assaulted Emily. The man--who was named Daniel Michaels–-was just brought into custody and apparently it seemed the police had been searching for him for quite some time regarding previous crimes he had committed. He had started down the criminal path years ago; while he had never killed before, he had a pattern of generally attacking wealthy women-–celebrity or not.

The police apologized profusely and told him how they hoped his girlfriend would recover, but none of that mattered. What should he give a damn about any of that? Despite how many times they said their “sorry”, that didn’t change what happened to Emily. They were too late.

The bastard who did this to her was in jail now and couldn’t hurt her anymore than he already did. Norman was thankful for that, but the son of a bitch should have been arrested a long time ago, before he would have had the chance to ever come in contact with Emily or lay a single finger on her.

They were all too fucking late.

He slammed his fist down on the armrest of his chair, muttering a string of curse words under his breath. How much longer did he have to wait for _at least_ an update? The hospital security already had to hold him back three times; the first two times was when he shoved the staff aside and tried to go see Emily on his own while she was in surgery, and the other time was after he nearly punched a male nurse when he was told he _technically_ didn’t have any rights to updates since he wasn’t “immediate family” or her “husband.”

The damn nurse was lucky security was on him before he had the chance to even raise his arm because if they hadn’t been there in time to stop him…

Norman dropped his head into his hands and ran his fingers through his tousled hair. He wished he could stop or even ignore the wave of thoughts that were crashing within the barriers of his skull and switch off his brain. He began thinking about what his life would be like without Emily. Ever since she entered his life he couldn’t possibly imagine her no longer being a part of it. He didn’t care how stupid it sounded–-she was his other half. For as long as he could remember he was missing this piece inside of him, and she was it.

“Mr. Reedus?”

He raised his head and lifted his eyes to a woman doctor standing before him with both of her hands in the pockets of her white coat and a stethoscope draped over her neck. As his eyes briefly scanned her, he had a hard time accepting she was this great doctor he heard about from her coworkers when he demanded to know who was taking care of Emily. She was a sweet looking woman who was definitely no more than thirty years old. She was just barely 5’3 in height, and incredibly thin; he was sure a young teenage girl could easily fit into the blue scrubs she wore. She had warm emerald eyes and brunette hair that was tied back into a loose ponytail.

“You’re Emily’s doctor?”

She nodded her head. “Yes, I’m the doctor on Ms. Kinney’s case. I heard you’re the one that nearly broke the hospital doors open when you first barged in.” She was smiling when she said it, but he no more than flinched at her comment. Instead, she slipped her hand from her pocket and stretched her arm out to him, waiting to shake his hand. For a moment his stare flickered between her eyes and her hand before he finally accepted the handshake. Then, she proceeded, “I’m Dr. Lexa Harrington. One of the best trauma surgeons in New York, so I can assure you she’s in good hands.”

He slowly stood, crossing his arms over his chest. “Can you tell me how she’s doing?”

Rather than answering his question right away, her bright green eyes scanned the area of the waiting room. When she saw a few people watching them, she turned her attention back to Norman and raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t we step into one of the rooms so we could talk privately?”

“No, I wanna know what the hell is going on with Emily! I’ve been waiting for _hours_ and none of you are telling me _shit!_ ” He didn’t necessarily mean to yell directly in her face, especially with his spit flying in every direction, but at this point he honestly didn't know what or how to feel anymore; he was extremely worried and beyond furious.

“Listen, Mr. Reedus,” Dr. Harrington began calmly, “I understand you’re upset. It’s been a long and rough couple of hours, but I need you to follow me into a quiet room so we could talk about Ms. Kinney. The circumstances are not entirely black and white, and I’m sure you don’t want people who this doesn’t even concern to be listening in on what we discuss.”

She started to walk away from him. When she realized he still wasn’t moving, she turned around and beckoned him to follow. “I promise I will explain everything to you and I’ll answer any and every question of yours. Okay?”

He let her lead the way.

* * *

Dr. Harrington and Norman were standing alone in an empty doctor office she found for the two of them to speak in private about Emily and her condition. He thought once he was finally informed of what was going on it would ease him and maybe provide him with a bit of comfort, but now that he was about to be told, he was only growing more and more nervous. What if she was worse than he had thought? What if that was the reason as to why no one was coming to tell him anything about her? Could she already be--

No.

No, he wasn't ready to hear it if that was the case. He wouldn't be able to handle it.

“First let me assure you she _is_ alive, as well as the baby. They’re bo–”

The whole world froze and he was sure he could feel the exact moment all time came to a halt. Every breath of air flushed out of his lungs and he suddenly couldn’t breathe all over again. “Wait,” he abruptly stopped the doctor before she could finish her sentence. “Wait just a minute. What… what did you just say?”

Her eyebrows furrowed together. “I was saying she and the baby made it through the surgery successfully, and she is currently in ICU. Ms. Kinney suffered a significant amount of trauma, especially to the head, which is why she is still in ICU. We do need to keep a close eye on her, but in my professional opinion, I do believe she and the baby should both make a full recovery.”

She studied his face while she spoke, trying to read his expression as well as the thoughts in his head. He looked awfully pale and she noticed he was having trouble holding himself up straight. “I’m sorry. Are you alr–”

Norman shook his head and took a shaky step backwards, pressing his back to the wall. “No… no, no, she ain’t pregnant. She…” He couldn’t wrap his head around any of it. _A_ _baby?_ He and Emily were going to have a little boy or girl together. He couldn’t wrap his head around the idea. He was going to be a dad again.

It suddenly became very clear what her careless mistake was and she immediately regretted not making sure he knew before she said mentioned anything about the baby. “I- I sincerely apologize, Mr. Reedus. I- I assumed you already knew. Ms. Kinney is just about five weeks pregnant; she’s not far from finishing with her first trimester.”

He shut his eyes tight and hung his head. He honestly didn’t know how much more he could take. It was all too much and happening too quick. He was angry, devastated, and truthfully _scared_ all at once and he couldn’t do this–-he _couldn’t_.

Despite herself, Dr. Harrington offered him a small smile. “I can only imagine what you must be feeling right now and how shocked you must be, but I can assure you that you don’t have to worry about your baby. He or she will be just fine. Our pediatric doctor here was involved in this case every step of the way and she just gave the baby the all clear.”

With those words, he lifted his head and turned to look at the doctor so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. His eyes went wide as he quietly murmured, “You sure?”

She nodded her head. “Absolutely.” Then, almost immediately, sympathy clouded her features, and in the same breath she added, “However, Ms. Kinney is still currently in critical condition.”

He bit down on his tongue. As much as he wanted to yell and drill the doctor with questions, he used every ounce of strength he had left and stopped himself. With a deep breath, he urged her to continue. He needed to control himself long enough to know _everything_ about Emily's health before reacting. He owed her _that_ much.

“When she was first brought in earlier today she was suffering from a massive brain hemorrhage as well as hypothermia. There was excessive bleeding from the head, but we couldn’t take her into surgery until we raised her body temperature. Otherwise, if we did, she would have died immediately on the table.”

“She must have been left in the snow for a long period of time because her body temperature was far below 95 degrees. Meanwhile, the average normal body temperature is approximately 98 degrees. As her body temperature dropped, her heart, nervous system, and several other organs in her body weren’t able to work normally and _that_ was a major concern for us. Her heart and respiratory system were already beginning to fail by the time she made it to the hospital and into our care.”

Dr. Harrington noticed the way his eyes grew glassy and she knew he was fighting back tears, but she said nothing of it. Instead, she straightened her posture and continued on. “Once we were able to raise her body temperature, we prepped her for surgery, then began working on the brain hemorrhage. We had to control the swelling and the bleeding, which is why you have been waiting as long as you have. We finished the surgery about an hour and a half ago; however, I cannot tell you for sure how long she’ll have to remain in ICU as it depends on how her body recovers. Although so you know, I made sure she had the room to herself so she, as well as her visitors, could have some privacy from fans and the press.”

Norman shook his head angrily and pointed an accusing finger at her. “Wait, she’s been out of surgery that long and _now_ you’re coming to find me? What? Is it because I’m not _family_ or maybe ‘cause I’m not her _husband?_ Is that it? I thought you doctors are suppose to keep us updated when we trust _you people_ with our loved ones?”

She let him yell and did nothing when he spun around and punched the nearby wall as hard as he could. She wasn’t even taken aback; she was only surprised he didn’t break his hand from the impact. She took a small step back and gave him his space as he fumed.

She waited awhile before she dared to say another word. “Perhaps I should have sent someone to let you know the moment we finished Ms. Kinney’s surgery.”

“Then why _in the hell_ didn’t you?” He hadn’t realized a tear fell from his eye and slid down his cheek, nor did his brain process the pain that shot through his knuckles. He was masking his fear with anger because he couldn’t be vulnerable right now. He didn’t have Emily to solely worry about anymore. No, now he had to also think about the tiny human growing inside his girl’s belly.

Dr. Harrington neatly folded her arms across her chest and bent her head, her eyes remaining glued to the tile floor. “I knew I performed the surgery the best I could and although I was confident I repaired what I needed to, I wanted to make sure Ms. Kinney and the baby were fully stable before coming to find you.”

They both stood there in silence. She stood staring at a painting that was hanging on the wall while he shook and seethed with anger. A few minutes past before she raised her head to once again look him straight in his hurt-filled eyes. “My brother had an accident a few years ago. His doctor came out right after his surgery and told my family he would be fine. He died not an hour later. So no, I didn’t come to find you right away because I wanted to make sure she was settled into a bed and all the appropriate tests were completed first. It probably wasn’t my decision to make, especially because worst came to worst you deserved the chance to say goodbye, but I made it nonetheless.”

She tucked a piece of loose hair behind her ear and heaved a deep sigh. “I am truly sorry for what you and Ms. Kinney are going through. What happened to her was extremely terrible and tragic, so I understand completely why you’re upset and angry. It’s easy to see how much you care about her, which is why I wanted to be the one to talk to you and not just send one of the nurses to give you a quick and brief update. I told you prior, it’s not black and white.”

“You said you repaired the bleeding and she’s right now in one of those hospital beds recovering.” He was finding it harder and harder to keep himself together. There was that damn feeling in his gut again, and it was telling him Emily wasn’t out of the woods yet. Maybe she never would be. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Due to the extent of her injury, although we managed to stop the bleeding and swelling in the brain, there can be several results when… or _if_ she wakes up.”

He lowered his head as he felt his chin quiver uncontrollably. He tried to choke back the sobs and tears, but it was to no avail. Little by little he was breaking down and if Emily didn’t survive this, he didn’t know if he would be able to recover either. If it came to it, he could lose his baby boy or girl and the woman he saw himself spending the rest of his life with at the same time. Without even needing to think about it, he knew if it came to that, his heart wouldn’t be able to handle it.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Reedus. I really am, but at this point in time there is nothing else any of us could do. If she does wake up then it is possible she will constantly suffer from major headaches, seizures, or nothing at all–-we won’t know until down the road and when she is conscious.”

Dr. Harrington already knew his next question before he could ask. She closed her eyes for a brief second, then said, “One of the main reasons as to why she is in critical condition is because there is a good chance Ms. Kinney may not wake up. The damage to her brain was severe, yet I've seen some patients come back from worse, though. Right now we have her on a ventilator to assist her breathing.”

When he didn’t say anything, she took it as her cue to give him his space and some time to himself. “I will give you some time to process everything before taking you to see her.”

Just before she exited the room, she glanced over her shoulder at him. “I know this isn’t how either of you pictured celebrating your Christmas Eve, but I do honestly believe she will recover fully. From what I could see, there’s been so set backs as of yet. Trust me, I’m good at my job. If I didn’t think she would make it, I would be telling you something entirely different. It may not feel like it, but Ms. Kinney is lucky. She has a fighting chance and _that_ is something you have to hold on to right now, Mr. Reedus.”

When she gently shut the door behind her, she felt her heart break a little as Norman collapsed to his knees, held his head in his hands, and finally let it all out. He choked for breath as everything he was feeling from the moment he received the phone call from the hospital came pouring out of him. He screamed until he felt his vocal cords bleed and cried until he was sure he was going to drown in his sorrow.

He had never felt so broken.

So alone.

* * *

The room felt suffocating.

 _The whole damn hospital did_ , he mused bitterly. He was sitting on a hard chair beside the hospital bed, holding Emily’s small hand. His blue eyes stayed focused on the hand he was holding while he did his best to ignore all the rest. It was hard for him to see her so small and fragile amid all the tubes and wires that were attached to her and connected to machines. A large, flexible breathing tube was inserted through her mouth and down her throat to help her breathe. The room was filled with the sound of her wheezing, and he couldn’t help but notice the machine’s pace was much slower than the pace of normal breathing.

He gingerly raised his hand to her battered face, his fingers lingering over the bruises that marked her beautiful face entirely in splotches of dark blue and purple. Her eyes were red and almost completely swollen shut from the beating. Her hair was pulled back by the white gauze that was wrapped around the top of her head, exposing the line of jagged stitches across her forehead. The edges of the medical gauze were discolored by a brownish ooze of her blood, and the sight made his stomach turn.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he coaxed, tucking the stray strands of her hair that escaped the gauze behind her ear. He cringed when he spotted pieces of her blonde curls stained with dried blood. He tasted bile in his throat and fought to keep from throwing up. “You need to wake up now, Em. I need you back here with me.”

It was almost eleven o’clock at night, and he had been by her bedside the moment Dr. Harrington brought him to her hours earlier. He refused to leave her hospital room for anything, even when the nurses that came in to check Emily’s vitals told him to go home, get some rest and perhaps something to eat. The only time he forced himself to leave the room was when he rarely used the restroom.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I shouldn’t have let you leave our apartment and get that damn ice cream so late at night. God, what was I thinkin’ letting you go out there alone? I should’ve been the one to go.” He shook his head vigorously. Under his breath he muttered, “Better yet, I should’ve kept you safe in my arms and never let you go.” Moisture pooled in his eyes and his lips trembled as he softly spoke to her still form. He clenched his jaw tight and blinked back the oncoming tears.

He had to stay strong for her. No, not just for her. For _them_.

“I should have never let you go. I should never let you go. I should have ne…” Norman’s voice suddenly betrayed him and cracked mid-sentence. His mouth had gone utterly numb and he couldn't form any words. He released her cold hand and pressed his palms against his face. His entire body began to shake viciously as he finally lost control and broke down in gut-wrenching sobs.

How was he supposed to do this? How was he supposed to stay strong? He was normally good at masking his emotions and holding in his feelings, but things were different with Emily. She mattered more than anything else in his life other than his son; she was his world, and now so was their soon to be little boy or girl.

Norman lowered his head, resting his forehead beside her forearm. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, Em.” He kept on repeating the same thing over and over again, his voice thick with emotion. After awhile he could no longer hear himself, his hysteria drowning out whatever words he was trying to say to her.

She didn’t deserve this. How did it come to _this?_ She was a loving and caring woman who gave everything to everyone. She was a people person who would willingly and _happily_ give the clothes off her back if it meant helping someone in need. Since he had known her, she never once put herself first. She was good, she was kind, and now she was all but gone. He may even lose his unborn child in the process.

She didn’t deserve any of this.

* * *

When Dr. Harrington threatened to kick him out of Emily’s hospital room permanently, he reluctantly did as she asked and headed back to his apartment. Although visiting hours were technically over, she promised him if he went home for a bit he would be allowed to come back and stay the night. She told him she would even find him a comfier chair rather than that stupid plastic shit they tried calling a chair.

So, he agreed to do what she had asked of him. He would take a quick shower, change into clean clothes, and _maybe_ grab something to eat–-although he doubted it because he wasn’t sure he could put anything in his stomach. Then, he would head right back to her bedside and not move again until she woke up.

Because she _will_ wake up. He was aware Dr. Harrington told him she may or may not recover, but he refused to believe it. She couldn’t leave him. No, he wouldn’t accept that.

After a quick shower, he dried himself off and headed into the bedroom in nothing but a towel. Just when he finished slipping into a black shirt with long sleeves and a pair of jeans, in the corner of his eye he spotted a Christmas present laying in the middle of his and Emily’s bed.

Despite himself, a small smile tugged at his lips. He knew, almost better than anyone else, how Emily could be during the holidays. From experience, he began to realize she was _extremely_ impatient when it came to the time around Christmas. One of her favorite things was to wrap a bunch of stuff and give the people she cared about gifts. She would buy a ton of presents, then be ready to have everyone unwrap them days before actual Christmas Day.

Emily must have left it there right before they headed out to the party, eager to have him see it–-and probably open it–-the very next morning although it’d only be Christmas Eve. At the same time he gently lifted the rectangular shaped box from the bed, he took a quick glance at his watch. 11:47. In another thirteen minutes it would be officially Christmas, he would still be standing alone in the apartment, and Emily would still be lying in a hospital bed, fighting for her–-and their baby’s-–life.

He held the present that was covered in powder blue wrapping paper with various pictures of little snowmen. He felt a sharp pain pierce his heart as he reread over and over again the little white card that was taped to the center of the present. She neatly broke in her script handwriting: _Merry Christmas, Norman! I’ve loved you first as a dear friend and now something beyond what words couldn’t possibly ever explain enough. You’re my everything. Always been and always will be. I love you! XO, Emily._

It was 11:53 now. Norman clutched the tiny card in one hand and the Christmas present in the other. He wasn’t gonna lose her. He shook his head side-to-side, not accepting any of this. Life could keep dealing him shitty cards, but he’d be damned if he gave up on her and their unborn child. He turned toward the dresser that held his clothes and, after digging through fabric after fabric, he finally pulled out exactly what he was looking for.

He sure as hell didn’t believe in “Christmas Miracles,” but that didn’t mean he wasn’t praying for one.

* * *

Just as Dr. Harrington had promised, she replaced the ridiculously uncomfortable chair with a lounge chair she borrowed from one of the offices. Not that it really mattered to him at the moment, but he did appreciate it all the same.

Norman was sitting right next to her hospital bed, right where he belonged. He brought up his left hand and chewed nervously on his thumbnail while his right hand held tightly onto her still hand. He watched her in an agony of apprehension, waiting for her to wake up and reveal to him her beautiful blue eyes.

He couldn’t fall asleep. When his eyelids became too heavy he tried to, but he wasn’t able to take his eyes away from her. He watched the rise and fall of her chest, and listened carefully to the steady beeping of the machines-–his reassurance that she was still alive.

“Come on, Em,” he said in a near whisper. He took his hand from his mouth and stroked her bruised cheek with his thumb. “Emmy, it's time for you to wake up now.”

He hadn’t called anyone yet to let them know what happened to her. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he should have called them by now, probably when he first found out about her accident. Her parents had the right to know their little girl was fighting for her life in some hospital, and there was a chance she wouldn’t make it. He hung his head and heaved a heavy sigh. He couldn’t find enough strength in him to actually make the call, though.

Andy had texted him yesterday to wish him and Emily a wonderful and fun Christmas Eve, but Norman didn’t reply. What could he say? His girl was brutally attacked, practically beaten to the death, and now lying lifelessly on a damn hospital bed. Yeah, it was all wonderful.

They were all probably going to kill him for not letting them know what Emily was going-– _suffering_ –-through, but if he were being honest with himself, he didn’t give a shit. She didn’t need a bunch of people hovering over her in a small hospital room. She needed him, or maybe he just needed her. All he knew for sure was that he just needed more time alone with his pregnant girlfriend to process it all.

He glanced to his right and saw his present from Emily was on top of the counter, still completely wrapped. He thought about opening it back at the apartment or even when he was sitting in his car in the hospital parking lot. He wanted to wait for her to wake up first, yet as his eyes lingered on the white card that was addressed to him, something deep inside was telling him to unwrap the Christmas gift now.

He heard his knees crack as he stood and stifled a grunt as he reached over to grab the present from the counter. His fingers worked at gradually peeling the wrapping paper off while the entire time his blue irises remained glued to her face. A part of him was secretly hoping her eyes would shoot open, and she would scold him for daring to open his gift without her. Instead, she was lying on the bed, motionless. She was still as stone and another part of him couldn’t help but worry she would forever stay that way.

Once the wrapping paper was completely torn off and left discarded on the tile floor, his gaze fell to the heavy azure colored scrapbook. In large letters, “ _Emmy & Norman_” were written on the front cover right above a picture of the two of them sharing a kiss. It wasn’t of their first kiss, but he could easily tell it was taken years ago during the beginning of their relationship. They were taking an hour break from filming and they both had snuck off together, utterly oblivious to Andy and Lauren, who were secretly following them. Their two friends caught them in a rather intense moment; Emily was securely pinned between her trailer door and his body, her legs loosely wrapped around his lower back while his hands gripped her waist. They were kissing slowly yet hungrily, and Lauren couldn’t help but pull out her cell-phone and snap a picture of the couple.

As he flipped through the pages, a sad smile spread across his face and a tear hung out of one eye. She filled each and every one of the pages in the scrapbook with photos of them, from when they first met to the last picture they took together a couple of days ago, and decorated it with several memorable items they had given one another-–bracelets and trinkets that he bought her, pieces of worn out masks he had loved to wear, _The Walking Dead_ keychains and accessories that had either _Beth_ or _Daryl_ written on it, strands of silly string he sprayed on her months ago, tickets to their first vacation together as a couple, fanart their fans created of either their characters or of actually Emily and him, and et cetera. There was so much in the book he held in his trembling hands, and he could feel every ounce of love she poured into the scrapbook when making it.

Very slowly, Norman placed the scrapbook onto the floor beside him and dipped his fingers into his jacket pocket, pulling out a tiny velvet box. Although he had been carrying it around for awhile now and even managed to get her father’s blessing, after all this time he hadn’t found the nerve to ask her the question yet. There had been numerous occasions he _almost_ asked her, but no matter how many times he tried, he couldn’t drop to his knee and get the words out of his mouth.

He sat at the very edge of his seat and placed his hand that was still clenching onto the small box beside hers, then gingerly rested the palm of his other hand on top of her belly where their baby was growing inside of her. With his thumb and forefinger, he popped open the lid of the box to reveal a glittering, three-stone diamond ring. He licked his chapped lips, trying to find the right words to say to her. “Em, I know you could hear me." He paused, then suppressed a humorless chuckle as he muttered, "Or I hope you can, anyways."

He let out a long, deep breath. "I can’t… I can’t do this without you. I don’t _want_ to do this without you. You gotta keep fighting. You gotta keep fighting for yourself, for me… for our baby. I want to be able to fill the rest of that scrapbook you got me with more pictures of us and our growing family. I want there to be more. I _need_ there to be more. So can you do that? Can you come back to me?”

He gently rubbed small circles around her belly as he plucked the ring out of the velvet bed and carefully slipped it onto her finger. He felt emotion welling up in his stomach, and while he tried to force it down, he could already feel the hot tears form and rush to the corners of his eyes. He blinked to clear them, wanting to stay strong when she needed him most, but every moment she remained unconscious, the more he involuntarily broke apart. The more he was beginning to lose hope.

“I promise you, Em, if you wake up right now I’ll never let you go.” His whole body began to shake. “I’ll hold onto you and our child for the rest of eternity and there won’t be a damn thing that could ever tear us apart again. You just need to fight. _Fight._ I ain’t giving up on you, so don’t you give up on me. Please, just make it out of this.”

Norman felt his eyes sting and his lips quiver. “Emily Rebecca Kinney,” he whispered her full name under his breath. He sucked air into his lungs, and prayed to whoever would listen that she could actually hear him through her unconsciousness. “Marry me.”

There was a single moment of silence that past, then a hideous noise of the machines that were connected to Emily started to erupt around him.

The blaring beeping from the machines alarmed those outside the room and brought in a cadre of nurses. They were ushering him out, demanding him to leave the room immediately so they had room to work. Dr. Harrington suddenly pushed through the crowd of nurses and made her way beside Emily.

She quickly glanced at the machines, the alarms going off almost bursting her eardrums, and muttered a curse under her breath. She shook her head and promptly pulled a pair of clean gloves from the box that was displayed on the counter. Like a switch, her mind went on overdrive. She was trying to take care of her patient, but there were too many nurses in the room that were doing nothing to help and Norman standing right next to her, anxiously trying to find out what was happening, was definitely _not_ helping even more.

Finally, she had enough. “Everyone needs to get out. _Now_.”

* * *

Emily tried to speak, but there was something shoved down her throat. She immediately began to panic, her heartbeat hammering wildly against her ribcage. Whatever was in her mouth and down the length of her throat, she wanted it out.

Her warm sapphire eyes were as wide as they could be from being swollen with hot tears streaming down her cheeks. She could feel her entire body shaking as she began hyperventilating; she was choking, gasping to fill her lungs with fresh air. Her chest was rapidly rising and falling, and her mouth was open as she tried desperately to draw in enough air.

She couldn’t move her arms. _Why couldn’t she move? What was wrong with her?_ Tiny black dots clouded her vision and she was starting to feel like she may loss consciousness all over again. What the hell happened? She couldn’t remember anything at all except for hearing Norman’s muffled voice a few moments ago.

Emily wanted to scream and beg someone-– _anyone_ –-to help her, but suddenly she heard a woman’s voice speak gently yet firmly into her ear. “You need to calm down, Emily. Can you hear me? You’re in the hospital. You need to try to remain _extremely_ still so I could finish removing your breathing tube, alright?”

Dr. Harrington paused her actions for barely less than a minute, just until Emily’s body calmed–-now only slightly jerking-–, before she worked quickly to remove the breathing tube in order to stop her patient from choking.

Once it was finally removed, Emily suddenly erupted into a long, violent coughing fit that concluded with a sizable amount of blood to splatter and spill over her chapped lip and down the curve of her neck. Tears of fright and pain poured down her cheeks as she flailed her arms around her sides, fingers curled to scratch at the closest thing. She tried to kick, but the movement sent an explosion of pain bursting through her, setting her limbs on fire. In that moment, she would have done anything to stop the unbearable amount of pain she was in, even tear her throbbing hipbone from her body.

She felt hands on her. They were pushing her down against the bed, but she didn’t want anyone touching her. She desperately wanted to tell whoever it was to _get off her_ , yet her brain wasn’t working and she was unable to speak. She was shaking; she didn’t want anyone to have their hands on her, near her, or pushing down on her body. She wanted… she wanted…

 _Norman_.

Where was he?

“Get off her!” Emily could have sworn she heard his voice amidst the shouting, however her vision was blurry and her head was spinning. She would know the sound of his voice anywhere, but was that _really_ him, or was her mind playing tricks?

“I said get the _fuck_ off her!”

“Sir, you need to take a step back and let us do _our_ jobs.”

“Your jobs? _Look_ at her! She wants you off!”

“Mr. Reedus, you need to leave the room. _Now!_ ”

“I ain’t going anywhere. Let me see her! Get the _hell_ outta my way!

“I told you, sir, you need to–”

“Norman?” Emily rasped out, her voice hoarse after being unused for so long and having the breathing tube down her throat. Everything went silent. She opened her eyelids then immediately closed them again against the glint of light; she blinked her eyes once, but the strong light forced them closed. She had grown so accustomed to the darkness, she almost forgot what light was like. How long had she been out? Very slowly, she carefully raised her eyelids, allowing her eyes adjust to the bright light.

Once she was able to see clearly again, he was the first person she saw. Their eyes instantly connected across the room, and there was nothing that was going to stop him from getting to her side. He used both of his arms to push his way through the small crowd of nurses who had tried to stop him just moments earlier and raced to Emily’s bedside. He forgot all about the chair he had been sitting on for the last however many hours it had been and dropped down on one knee. One of his hands found hers and their fingers linked while his other hand gently caressed her tear-stained cheek. He hadn’t even realized his own eyes stung with tears.

He dipped his head and planted a soft kiss to the inside of her elbow. “You’re alright,” he whispered against her skin. “You’re both alright.”

“Norman,” she wheezed his name. God, he had never been so happy to hear his name on her sweet lips. “Norman, I’m s-so sorry.”

He shook his head. He didn’t want to hear any of that. He squeezed her hand tighter and glanced up at her face through the strands of his hair that fell in front of his eyes. “You got nothin’ to be sorry for. Don’t even start that.”

“I- I never should’ve left you. I–”

Norman suddenly pushed himself off the floor and quickly leaned his upper body over the bed so he could capture her quivering lips. He placed the palms of his hands on either side of her face and kissed her long and deep. She was crying hysterically now, but he didn’t pull away. He wasn’t letting go, not ever again.

His mouth was soft and firm, and it was just what she needed. Her fingers grasped the front of his shirt, holding him in place because she didn’t want to break the kiss yet. Her lungs were burning for oxygen, but she missed this–-missed _him_ –-and, in that exact moment, she swore she would never let him go again. Damn all the ice cream in the world. Her place was with him.

“I love you,” he breathed quietly against her lips. They were both gasping for air-–her more than him. He felt something warm burst inside of him at the sight of her full teeth smile. _What would he have done if he never saw her smile again?_

“I–” Emily stopped herself all of a sudden. She blinked up at him, noticing he was staring at her curiously and worriedly. The wheels in her head were rusty given the circumstances, but they were nevertheless turning. He opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong, but she beat him to it. “Before… I- I’m sorry. Before you said that we’re _both_ alright. What... what did you mean?”

“Nothing.”

The way he answered her immediately was his tell that he was lying to her. She knew it. She was always one of the only people who always knew when he was lying about something. She narrowed her eyes and swallowed hard against the lump that was stuck in her throat. It was only then did she notice the nurses left and she and Norman were alone in the room. “Norman, tell me. Are… are you sa–”

“You’re pregnant, Em.” He cringed. Maybe he shouldn’t have just _blurted_ out the news like that, but he was still wrapping his head around the idea. Then it hit him; if that was how he felt--and he have had time to think about it--then he could only imagine how she must feel at the given moment after everything.

“I’m… what?”

Norman gently sat down on the bed, careful not to hit any of the wires that were still attached to her. He rested one hand on top of her stomach and the other back on her cheek. “You’re pregnant.” Although she was staring up at him with wide eyes, he felt himself smile. “We’re gonna have a baby together, Em.”

“Are you…” She couldn't help the small bits of laughter that fell from her mouth. “Are you sure?” She didn't know what to think in that moment. She had  _always_ been good with children, and she loved to play and take care of them. She had always wanted a child of her own; it wasn't hard for her to picture her life with Norman, the two of them raising a little boy or girl. Of course she loved Mingus; he was a fantastic kid and he was part of her family now. She never once didn't treat him as if he was her own, but the bottom line was that he _wasn't_ her own. She was never entirely sure how Norman felt about having a child, but she could only hope he was as excited as she was about the news.

He nodded his head as the corners of his lips curved upward. “Yeah, yeah I’m sure. The doctor said the baby was in the all clear and everything. You’re both gonna be fine.” He bent his head to press a kiss to single spot on her forehead that was clear from her stitches. It had taken quite awhile for the shock to wear off, but he couldn't be more thrilled--and terrified--about sharing a baby with Emily and being a father again. He was nervous and he knew it wasn't going to be easy, but he was ready for it. He had watched her around children numerous of times, and he couldn't honestly think of someone who would be a better mother than her.

"Oh my God," she said breathlessly. She couldn't wrap her head around any of it; she couldn't believe it all. "We're gonna be parents, Norman!" She beamed a bright, full teeth smile up at him, and it was contagious. She placed both of her hands on her stomach, rubbing small patterns on top of the sheet that covered her body. "I can't believe I'm finally gonna be a mother. I'm going... I'm going to be able t- to have this chance. _We're_ going to be able to have th- this chance."

He noticed she was choking up with emotion. His heart faltered a beat. She didn't even need to say anything because he knew right away what was suddenly wrong with her. “I promise you that nobody will ever hurt you again. No one will ever again put a hand on you.” She was putting on a brave face, but he saw passed it. She was traumatized. There was something somewhere in the back of her mind that kept reminding her continuously that she was on Death's door; she was _extremely_ close to losing her life, thus losing all the possibilities of life, such as having a baby of her own.

She was emotional--there was no sense in denying it--but as he spoke, she realized something. She cleared her throat and blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill, putting how she felt aside for a moment. She was staring at him for several minutes, her eyebrows scrunched together in thought. She had known him for a long time now, and she knew just by the sound of his voice that something else was on his mind. It wasn't hard for her to figure it out. “None of this was your fault,” she whispered. He was blaming himself for not being able to stop her from leaving the apartment or for not being there to protect her. He shouldn’t, though. “It was that man’s fault.”

He looked away from her, but she wasn’t having any of that. “Hey, do you hear me? It wasn’t yours.” Although it hurt to move at all, she used the little strength she had to raise her arm; she placed her hand against his cheek and forced him to look her in the eyes again. “I’m okay. _We’re_ okay. Don’t be carrying any guilt because that doesn’t fall on your shoulders. Alright?”

He bobbed his head once to let her know he heard her. He then took a deep breath before he heard himself growl through clenched teeth, “They got the bastard.”

“Good,” she murmured. She didn’t understand why the man would want to hurt her, but all she knew was that she didn’t want to think about him or the accident anymore. All she wanted was to move forward and focus on Norman and their baby; she wanted to put all her attention on her _family._

When she tried to shift her body, he saw her wince. His eyes widened with alarm and concern, and he was immediately all ready to rush out of the room to grab Dr. Harrington and seek help. Before that, he asked, “You okay? How’re feeling?”

Just as he stood and was about to head for the door, Emily’s fingers curled around his wrist, stopping him before he could go anywhere. Her lips parted, her intention was to tell him not to leave her, but something entirely different escaped her mouth. “What the hell is that?”

He cocked his head slightly to the side as he watched the expression on her face changed almost instantly. That was probably the last thing he expected to hear from her. “What?”

Rather than looking up at him, her eyes were glued to her left hand that was still holding onto Norman’s wrist. Her eyes were huge and full of newly unshed tears. It took him a moment to understand what was going on, but he finally realized what made her change so suddenly. "Oh," he simply muttered. She was staring at the diamond ring on her finger, and she was utterly stunned. With everything that was happening all at once, he had almost forgotten he slipped the ring onto her finger while she was unconscious. He scratched the back of his head and felt his cheeks grow hot. “Uh, that’s–”

She rolled her eyes and scowled at him, “I know _what_ it is, Norman.” Her gaze fell upon the ring which he had given her while she was holding onto a thread of life, fighting to stay alive. They never necessarily talked about marriage, although she had often dreamt about it. She remembered him saying in an interview a long time ago that he wasn’t looking to get married, so she simply never brought it up to him.

Emily licked her lips and opened her mouth to say something several times to no avail. Her mind was racing and turning as she tried to find the right words. They have been dating for a few years now, and during that time she never once doubted his love for her, not even for a mere second. It was just that she _knew_ how he felt about marriage. As much as he loved her, there was no way he would change his strong feelings regarding the matter. Did he just put the ring on her finger because he thought she was going to die?

She bit down on the inside of her cheek. “You put this ring on me, but I _know_ you, Norman. Marriage isn't your thing and that’s _fine._ I accepted that a long time ago and I don’t regret any of it. It’s just… I need to know if you meant this or–” Her voice cracked before she could finish her sentence. Would he take it all back? A single tear slipped from the corner of her eye and trickled down her cheek. He whispered her name, but she wouldn’t let him speak just yet. Her throat still seemed incredibly dry and raw. When she spoke again, her voice was laced with heavy emotion. “You wanna marry me?”

She was terrified of his answer, but she needed to know for absolute sure.

Norman brushed away her tear and smiled softly at her. “I found the present that was meant for me on our bed. You left it there and I- I brought it back here and I ended up opening it. I probably shouldn’t have, but all the waiting and not knowing if you were gonna make it was driving me crazy and I didn’t know what else to do.”

He paused, gathering everything he wanted to tell her in his head, then trying to find the right way to tell them to her. “I had the ring on me for longer than I care to admit because I couldn’t work up the nerve to ask you. I wanted to, but I just couldn’t. I never thought I would want to get married and go through the whole wedding thing, but then I meant you and everything was different. I was on my phone looking at this picture of you smiling and I ended up wandering into a jewelry store. Other than Mingus, you’re the most important person in my life.”

“Looking through that scrapbook only made me even more sure. You matter the most to me in this entire world, Em. I wanna be with you. You, me, and our baby for the rest of our lives.” He was holding her hands tightly in his, his thumb gently stroking her knuckles. “I probably should’ve waited for you to be awake before putting the ring on your finger, but I didn’t think I’d have the chance.”

“And now you do,” she murmured. Despite the fact that she was afraid he would still back out and change his mind, she couldn’t prevent the small smile that was tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Will you marry me, Emily Rebecca Kinney?” He had asked the question when she was unconscious, but now that she was awake with so many emotions flashing across her face all at once, it felt different this time. He expected it to feel weird on his tongue, but it strangely didn’t; instead, it felt surprisingly natural.

She stared up at him, wide-eyed, and her face flushed. He wasn’t taking any of it back; he still wanted to marry her. He hadn’t given her the ring out of obligation or just because he was afraid of losing her. He had been planning on asking her to marry him way before her accident because he loved her and wanted to truly be with her.

Her brain wasn’t working and she couldn’t possibly form any coherent sentences. She swallowed thickly, then softly said two simple words:

“Kiss me.”

That was all she needed to say. It was less than a second she felt his mouth cover her own, and never had he kissed her so deeply, so fiercely for as long as they had been together. She felt the tip of his tongue press against her swollen lips, gently parting them. Then, ever so slowly he moved inside her mouth to meet her tongue passionately. At first she winced from the pain because the flesh was still tender and bruised, but she didn’t care. With all the medication she was on she wasn’t sure how much longer she would be able to keep herself awake, so she wanted to enjoy the time she had with him.

He was mindful to keep his weight off her as he leaned over the upper half of her, trapping her between his body and the hospital bed. His forearms rested on either side of her head on the pillow, his fingers tangled in the ends of her hair as he was careful not to graze the white bandage that was securely wrapped around the top of her head.

She tore herself away from the kiss and shifted so her mouth was against his ear. Breathlessly, she whispered, “Yes.”

* * *

Dr. Harrington wasn’t necessarily happy about it, but in the end she eventually agreed to help guide Norman on the hospital bed with Emily. She made sure all the machines and wires were safely out of the way and wouldn’t be disturbed as the couple shared the extremely uncomfortable, single bed. She knew, as a professional, she probably shouldn’t have allowed it but she knew with or without her permission and guidance, they were going to do it anyways. Besides, who was she to keep love apart?

She ran all the tests she needed to in order to officially clear Emily. She wasn't entirely healthy and she still had a long way down the road to recover, but she was getting there. She and the baby thankfully looked really good. As far as she could tell from what she could see and from the tests, there also seemed to be no side effects from the head trauma. Dr. Harrington couldn't refrain herself from smiling. It was a relief to finally give the couple some good news.

Emily was curled into Norman the best she could in the state she was in. Her hip was fractured in several places from the fall and it was hard for her to find any comfort while lying down, regardless of the position she tried. However, none of that mattered. She had just never been more thankful and happy to be alive and in the arms of the man she loved.

He held her closely against him, one arm draped around her shoulders with his fingers tracing meaningless patterns on her upper arm while his other hand was resting on her belly. Neither one of them said a word as he silently watched her slowly fall in and out of sleep. Her eyelids were fluttering and he knew she was fighting to keep them open, but she was drained and desperately needed the rest. When he noticed her stifle a yawn for the third time in a row, he finally urged her to go to sleep. He kissed the top of her head and softly told her, “I’ll be here when you wake up. I promise.” A whole army could _try_ to drag him out if they'd like, but he wasn't going anywhere.

“Mm,” she moaned. “I’m not tired.”

He smiled down at her as soon as he heard her yawn once again. If he were being honest with himself, he was exhausted as well. “It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.” He pressed another loving kiss to her temple. “Just think of it this way, Em. The more you rest, the quicker I could break you out of this place.” For as long as he known her, she absolutely _hated_ hospitals. He wasn't necessarily a fan either, but he surely couldn't compare to her when it came to doctors, needles, and all that kind of stuff.

Norman playfully winked at her and when he did, he never had heard something more beautiful as her sweet laugh filled his ears. She suddenly poked his side and grinned mischievously at him. “And the more I heal, the quicker we get to finally go at round two.”

He quirked his eyebrow at her, which only made her roll her eyes. “I told you before I left for the ice cream that once I got back we’d have round two, didn’t I? Just because this all happened doesn’t mean I’m taking that back.” He was starting to wonder if she missed the part when the doctor told them no sexual activity for _at least_ a month, and it was probably going to be longer.

Her eyelids were drooping and she was already dozing off into unconsciousness before he could make a remark. A content sigh escaped her lips as he gently rubbed her back, soothing her to sleep. "I love you," she finally said after a few moments ticked by, her voice laced with sleep. She placed her smaller hand on top of the hand he had on her lower stomach, lacing their fingers together. She was going to make it through this, she was going to be a mother, she was going to be a wife, and she was going to move on from this. It wasn't going to be easy, emotionally and physically speaking, but she was confident it was all going to be okay as long as she had Norman by her side and their unborn child to look forward to. She felt so at peace lying with him in his arms, and she couldn't think of a better way to spend the last few hours they had left of the holiday. Sleepily, she mumbled, “Merry Christmas, Norman.”

In spite of everything that has happened, Christmas was still her favorite holiday. He didn’t know what time it was, but he saw from the window on the adjacent wall it was dark outside and Christmas was almost officially over. Although this wasn’t their ideal way of celebrating the holiday, he couldn’t help but feel beyond grateful to have been granted the best gift he could have ever wished for. He honestly didn’t expect Emily to make a recovery--he was still afraid something would randomly change and something bad would happen--but he was assured over and over again that she was going to be okay, and he had never been so overwhelmed with such joy and relief.

He stroked her cheek with the tip of his finger once and in a low voice he whispered, "G'nite, Em."

Norman rested his cheek against the top of her head and soon felt his own eyelids grow heavy from the countless hours he stayed awake; exhaustion was finally catching up to him. His eyesight blurred from being tired and knew he was slowly drifting off into a peaceful oblivion. "Mm, love you so damn much, girl," he told her quietly. Of course she knew, but after everything that happened he didn't want to risk a day going by and him not telling her how he felt about her. She deserved to know how much she was loved every single damn day, and he would make sure that she did. He listened to Emily’s breathing even out, and before he allowed himself to follow her lead, he glanced down one final time at his beautiful girl wrapped up in his arms. He shook his head. He thought about her, the engagement ring on her finger, the scrapbook that was placed beside the bed, and their unborn baby boy or girl, and it all just amazed him. How in the world did he become so damn lucky?

Even though she was already asleep and probably couldn’t hear him, he then murmured softly in her ear, “Merry Christmas.” He inhaled her sweet scent and pulled her body closer to his, although a part of him deep down doubted it was even possible. He didn’t care, though. It was him, her, and their baby; it was the three of them, and he was never letting go again.


End file.
